


"Don't look."

by DancingInTheSliverGlow



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [23]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson Friendship, Armor, Awesome Molly, Awesome Molly Weasley, BAMF Percy Jackson, Blood, Blood and Injury, Book 5: The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson), Crossover, Daggers, Explosions, Family, FebuWhump2021, Fighting, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Harry Potter Magic, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Magic, Muggles, One Shot, Powerful Percy Jackson, Prequel, Riptide, Serious Injuries, Sword Fighting, Swords, Temporary Amnesia, The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson) Spoilers, The Mist - Freeform, Time Travel, Traveling, Weasley house, backbiter, curse of achilles, for now, future Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, hearth, hurt annabeth chase, kind Molly Weasley, mortal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29813715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingInTheSliverGlow/pseuds/DancingInTheSliverGlow
Summary: A Percy Jackson and Harry Potter crossover!~~~When Luke stabs himself and Kronos at the end of the Last Olympian, he lets out a surge of energy. Percy gets hit by this energy, and it transports him back in space and time all the way to England 1993, the summer before Harry Potter's third year.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson & Grover Underwood, Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Fred Weasley & George Weasley & Molly Weasley, Luke Castellan & Annabeth Chase
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137995
Comments: 10
Kudos: 61
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	"Don't look."

Kronos loomed over Annabeth, a victorious expression on his face, his sword raised. 

Blood trickled out of Annabeth’s mouth. She coughed weakly, and looked up at him from the ground. “Family, Luke. You promised.”

Percy forced himself to his feet. Standing up under the growing presence of Kronos was like holding the weight of the sky. Percy staggered forward, pushing past the power and pain. Behind him, Grover was back on his hooves struggling to reach Annabeth and Kronos. 

Suddenly, Kronos staggered. He stared at the dagger in Annabeth’s hand, and the blood on her face. “ _Promise.”_

Then he choked like he couldn’t breathe. “Anna-Annabeth…”

It wasn’t Kronos’s voice; it was Luke’s.

Luke stumbled forward, like he was struggling to control his own body. “You’re bleeding…”

Annabeth tried to raise her dagger, but it clattered out of her hand. Her arm was bent at a sickening angle, clearly broken. She turned to Percy, a pleading expression on her face. “Percy…” 

The moment Luke had spoken, some of the power pushing Percy backward had eased, just enough for Percy to reach Annabeth. He knocked Backbiter out of Luke’s hand, and watched as it spun into Hestia’s hearth. Percy placed himself in front of Annabeth, protectively. “Don’t touch her.”

Anger rippled across his face, and Kronos’s voice growled, as his body started glowing and turning gold. “Jackson…”

He staggered to the side again, holding his head. Luke’s voice came through. “He’s changing. Help! He’s… he’s almost ready. He won’t need my body anymore. Please-”

“NO!” Kronos bellowed. He straightened up and looked around for his sword, snarling when he saw it melting in Hestia’s hearth. He made a lunge for it. Percy tried to stop Kronos, but he pushed Percy out of the way with such force that Percy landed against Athena’s throne, next to Annabeth, nearly passing out.

It took a few moments, but eventually Percy’s vision came back into focus. Kronos was grasping his sword and bellowing in pain. As Percy watched, his hands seared and burned the longer he held the sword, until he was forced to drop it. An image of Hestia flickered in the ashes, frowning at Kronos in disapproval. 

Luke turned and collapsed, clutching at his ruined hands, sweat making him look greasy and tears slipping out of his eyes. “Please, Percy…”

Percy struggled to his feet, with the world still slightly blurry from his head wound. He picked up Annabeth’s dagger and stared at Luke, remembering the plan. He had to kill him.

Luke seemed to realize what Percy was thinking. “No! You can’t… you can’t do it yourself. He’ll break my control and defend himself. Only my hand. I know where. I can… can keep him controlled.”

Luke was definitely glowing now, his skin starting to smoke.

Percy raised the knife, getting ready to fight. Then he looked at Annabeth, at Grover who had reached her and was trying to shield her from the fight. And finally, Percy understood.

 _You are not the hero,_ Rachel had said. _It will affect what you do._

“Percy,” Luke pleased, his voice in agony. “There’s no time.”

Percy knew that if Kronos evolved into his true form, there would be no stopping him. The line from the great prophecy echoed in Percy’s head. _A hero’’s soul, cursed blade shall reap._ Percy felt like his entire world tipped upside down. 

He gave the knife to Luke.

Behind him, Grover yelped. “Percy! Are you… what?”

Percy watched as Luke grasped the hilt. He unlatched the side straps of his armor, exposing a small hit of skin just under his left arm,, a place that would be very hard to hit. With difficulty, he stabbed himself. 

It wasn’t a deep cut, but Luke collapsed and howled in pain. The throne room shook, as an aura of energy surrounded Luke, growing bigger and brighter. 

Percy staggered backwards toward Grover and Annabeth. He had to protect them. Percy threw himself over them, shielding them from the aura of energy. “Don’t look!”

At the last moment, Percy shut his eyes as the throne room rattled, and a force like a nuclear explosion erupted from where Luke had stabbed himself. The force slammed into Percy instantly knocking him out and sending him flying above the thrones, out of the throne room and into the void.

… 

The first thing Percy noticed when he wakes, is water. He’s face down in cool water that’s covering his face, torso and legs. Not salt water, that would be too lucky. No, it’s freshwater from a swamp. His entire body throbs in pain, and Percy groans. 

Above him, someone speaks. “Blimey - he’s still alive! MUM!”

Suddenly there’s hands on him rolling him over. Percy cracks his eyes open, and sees two identical faces peering down at him from either side. Bearily, Percy wonders if he’s seeing double.

“George, he’s awake!” The face on the right says, astonished. The boy is about Percy’s age. He has distinctive reddish hair, and he’s wearing a blue knitted sweater. But what’s most alarming is that the boy - boys - are speaking with an english accent. Percy’s fairly certain that he was just in the US. He can’t be in england… right?

Presumably George on the left stares down at him with a literal identical expression of astonishment. He looks almost exactly the same as the boy on Percy’s right from the bright ginger hair to the blue knitted sweater. He wakes a hand in front of Percy’s face. “Hey, can you hear me?”

Well that confirms that he’s not seeing double. “Yeah,” Percy manages to croak, his throat dry like sandpaper despite having been face down in the swamp. He struggles to sit up and the twins lean back, giving him space.

“Bimley - are you American?” George exclaims, looking shocked. Percy ignores him and tries to remember what happened. 

At the back of his mind, he’s getting the notion that something important was happening, but he can’t remember what. His head hurts. He remembers Annabeth was there, Grover too along with someone else Percy doesn’t quite remember. But where were they? And more importantly, where is he now? 

Percy has a feeling that whatever happened had to do with his dad’s side of the family, and chances are the twins in front of him are mortals. Percy pats his pocket and feels the outline of Riptide. Something in him calms. At least he has Riptide, if nothing else. Percy starts to get up. He needs to get a look at his surroundings.

The twin on the right speaks up. “Mate, you really shouldn’t stand up, you took quite the fall.” 

George nods. “You should listen to Fred. It’s practically a miracle that you’re alive.” 

Fred. So that’s the name of the twin on the right. Percy takes a quick assessment of himself. Nothing feels broken (thanks to the curse of achilles), so it’s all just aches, a strange throbbing throughout his whole body and… temporary amnesia? Percy hopes it’s only temporary. He needs to figure out where he is and get back to Annabeth and Grover. He pulls himself up to stand.

Apparently Percy’s weaker than he feels, because the moment he stands, his knees give out. The twins rush and catch up, looping their arms under Percy’s. 

“Thanks,” Percy gasps as he collects his feet. “Where am I?” 

Fred and George exchange glances. “We’re in England, just outside of Ottery St. Catchpole.” Fred replies.

“And right outside of our house.” George continues.

“Who are you?” Fred asks.

England? No - that can’t be. Percy’s certain that he was just in America doing - something. He can’t remember. But how would he have gotten to England so fast? Zeus wouldn’t ever let him on a plane, and a boat would take weeks, even if Percy was using his powers to go faster. Unless… Nico shadow travelled with him here. But that theory doesn’t quite seem right either. If they shadow travelled, Percy would have fallen out of a large shadow. There’s none immediately around him.

Before Percy can reply, a voice interrupts them. “Fred! George! What on earth are you doing! I told you both to stay indoors - meteors are no joke-” 

Percy turns to the left, and sees a woman wearing a light brown sweater, a yellow and red skirt and holding a thin stick come out of thin… tower structure? She has a disapproving, scolding look on her face, and Percy is simulatonous reminded of his mother and being scolded by Chiron at the same time. 

The woman sees Percy and her expression completely changes, into one of concern and worry as she reaches them. “Oh dear - look at you! Quickly now, boys, bring him inside.” 

Fred and George help Percy limp inside the tower, as the woman frets worriedly. Under their breath, Fred and George tell Percy that’s their mother, as she recalls what she saw. “...I thought it was one of those meteor’s Arthur’s muggles are always going on and on about! He says that when they fly down they make quite the spectacle but when they land on earth, they devastated the area around. Lord knows what would’ve happened to us if it had been one of those…” 

Eventually they reach the tower, and step inside. The lighting is candle light and lamps, which quite the cozy cabin vibe with the wooden walls and ceiling. There’s books, pots, pans and all sorts of nick nacks living the walls, neatly hung up. A large table lies in the center of the kitchen. Percy double takes, and glances outside the house. The inside looks bigger than the outside. Percy voices this sounding surprised, and Fred, George and their mum instantly freeze. 

“Are you a muggle?” Fred asks.

“Oh no, did we just invite a muggle into our house?” George asks.

Their mom lightly smacks both of them on the head. “Enough with the two of you! It doesn’t matter. He’s hurt, and we’re going to help him. There’s exceptions for these sorts of things. Go set him over there, at the table.” 

Fred lets go of Percy and pulls out a chair. Percy collapses in it, his body aching. That’s when Percy smells it. He’s not quite sure what type of food it is, but it’s delicious. Not quite as good as his mom’s blue food, but very _very_ close. Percy’s stomach rumbles, and he looks around for the source of the food. That’s when he spots it, an old fashioned pot… that’s stirring itself? Percy squints at it, trying to see if there’s something - someone hidden behind the mist stirring the pot but no, there’s no-one. 

To his left, there’s a sudden chopping noise. Percy turns and - and there’s a knife chopping up carrots at top speed. Percy watches as the carrots are sliced into bits, and then the carrots, knife and cutting board pick themselves up and move over to the pot. The chopping board tilts itself down towards the pot and the knife slides the carrots inside, before returning to rest on the counter. 

A broom passes through the kitchen, sweeping up all the food bits on its own, before moving onto another room out of sight. 

What the hell. Did he wake up in a life-like cartoon?

“Well?” Fred asked, startling Percy. He looks up, only to see Fred and George standing a little to close, peering at him intently. Along with the glint in their eyes, they vividly remind Percy of Conner and Travis Stoll from the Hermes cabin at Camp Half Blood.

“Are you?” George questions.

Percy leans back, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “What?”

“A muggle, of course.” They reply simultaneously. 

Percy feels lost. He hasn’t felt this lost since he first showed up at Camp Half Blood, not knowing his parentage. Then again, there’s something familiar about the way they ask if he’s a muggle. It’s almost like… “You mean mortal?”

Fred and George exchange glances, looking confused. 

Their mum comes back with a damp towel in her hand. “Fred, George, I thought I told you enough! Go upstairs and get some dry clothes. You guys should be around the same size.” 

With a huff, Fred and George turn and go up a small, wooden, spiraling staircase.

The mum turns back to Percy with a kind smile that instantly sets Percy at ease. She takes a towel and starts dabbing at his forehead. Mud and bits of algae comes off into the towel. “Now dear, I’m Molly Weasley. Those two I just sent up are my twins, Fred and George. Do you remember what happened to you?”

“I’m Percy Jackson.” Percy instantly replies, and then bites his lip, wondering how much he can tell her. How much he even remembers. “I… I don’t remember. I think I was with my friends, Annabeth and Grover. We were doing something important? I don’t remember much more than that.” Percy glances up at Molly, looking and feeling lost. 

Molly places a gentle hand on his shoulder and frowns. “It’s okay, don’t force yourself. Now I’m not the best at injury detection spells, but I can probably manage a simple head injury…” 

Percy watches Molly pick up the brown stick that he saw earlier. Now that it’s closer, Percy can see that there are engravings all along the side. Molly points the wand at Percy, and something in Percy’s instincts flare up, and tell him that the little stick in front of him is powerful.

Percy stumbles out of the chair, eyeing the stick suspiciously. “What is that?”

Molly looks taken back for a moment, and then smiles. “It’s a wand. I’m a witch. Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad - I was just going to figure out what’s going on with your head. Just a little spell, quite harmless, really.”

Percy stares at Molly, his head spinning. A wand? Witch? Percy thought he already found out all the crazy in his life, being a demi-god, son of the greek god Poseidon. Now there was magic - actual magic and witches?

For some reason, Percy’s instincts are quiet at that and he gets the sense that he can trust her. Plus, the curse of achilles should protect him from most - if not all injuries, right? Percy nods and sits back down. Molly flicks the wand, and Percy feels a faint warmth against his forehead. Molly frowns. 

“My spell isn’t detecting anything. How do you feel?” 

“I’m tired but otherwise… I’m okay?”

Molly hums just as Fred and George come back thundering down the stairs, holding a shirt and pants. 

Molly takes it, holding up her hand to shush Fred and George when they open their mouths. She gives the clothes to Percy. “Here, go change into these, they should fit you. There’s a bathroom on the second floor, just up the stairs and your first door on the right. You can stay with us for dinner, and then we’ll figure out what happened to you?” 

Feeling out of his depth, Percy nods. With a final glance and the three Weasleys, Percy goes up the stairs, past the broom, past a painting on the wall that Percy swore moved as he passed by into the bathroom, locks the door and leans on the back. He stares at himself in the adjacent mirror, his face still slightly dirty, sea green eyes wide and panicked.

What the hell is going on?

**Author's Note:**

> So I have a vague outline to cover the HP Books 3, 4 and 5 with Percy in the Wizarding World going to hogwarts, and this is the prequel! Let me know if you enjoyed this, and bookmark the crossover series if you'd like to read more!
> 
> I hope everyone's staying safe and healthy during these troubling times.  
> Come say hi on [my tumblr :)](https://art-in-the-sunlight.tumblr.com)
> 
> Anywho... Let me know what you thought? And if you enjoyed, consider leaving a kudos?  
> Emoji Key for those who don't know what to say!  
> 💕 = you wish you could kudos again  
> 🧑🤝🧑 = Fred and George are the best!  
> 📚 = You can't wait for Percy to get to Hogwarts!


End file.
